Post by drest on Oct 28, 2015 15:28:34 GMT
Kerttu Virtanen | ♀ | Human | Vuoria
Kerttu smiled as she un-pinned the skin of her bodhrán drum, rolled it up, and packed it inside the drum in her rucksack. She and Asherah, her closest friend, had made decent money performing in the quiet village of Haven, but the time had come to move on and she'd heard rumor of a stag in the wood twelve-and-a-half hands high. She could scarcely wait to hunt it.
She sat outside the inn, also the town hall, the pair's kit scattered before her as she packed – Two rucksacks, two waterskins, three pouches, her javelins, her shield and sword, Ashe's bow and quiver, and Ashe's harp. Ashe was nearby, buying rations.
Money went into the smallest of the pouches, as well as a small stabbing dagger in case a robber caught them unable to reach their other weapons. Into another went hunting supplies – a hunting and a skinning knife, smooth stones for tanning fur to leather if need required, rough stones for scraping skin and bones clean, and the like. The third, largest pouch was left empty, to be filled by the organs, antlers, and bones of their game.
Nigh finished, Kerri paused to look around and take the village in for a last time. Haven, deep in the woods of Vuoria, housed perhaps sixty people if not fewer. Woodsmen and loggers mostly, they were quiet folk who were scarcely a part of Vuoria's economy or politics, but they welcomed travelers and from time to time sheltered outlaws. The town had around fifteen homes, a stable that served as the town smithy as well, a market, and the inn-and-hall, placed along a single road that grew from a trail in the woods leading East towards Sora. As a border town, it was enclosed, but the gate in the high wooden wall was only shut during wartime and it had no guard to speak of. Rather, any of its men and most of its women were capable of becoming a guard at a moment's notice if need be, so no permanent position was required.
The light breeze smelled of pine, willow, and alder; Kerri's hair rustled as she applied her dyes. An old pattern, three lines over her focusing eye and one under her lips – to see without illusion or error, and to be heard by the spirits of the wood. She used white to discolor her hair above her face, a trick to make her seem larger to animals and fearsome to people.
She packed her dyes and, impatient, gave a glance to the market for Ashe.
She sat outside the inn, also the town hall, the pair's kit scattered before her as she packed – Two rucksacks, two waterskins, three pouches, her javelins, her shield and sword, Ashe's bow and quiver, and Ashe's harp. Ashe was nearby, buying rations.
Money went into the smallest of the pouches, as well as a small stabbing dagger in case a robber caught them unable to reach their other weapons. Into another went hunting supplies – a hunting and a skinning knife, smooth stones for tanning fur to leather if need required, rough stones for scraping skin and bones clean, and the like. The third, largest pouch was left empty, to be filled by the organs, antlers, and bones of their game.
Nigh finished, Kerri paused to look around and take the village in for a last time. Haven, deep in the woods of Vuoria, housed perhaps sixty people if not fewer. Woodsmen and loggers mostly, they were quiet folk who were scarcely a part of Vuoria's economy or politics, but they welcomed travelers and from time to time sheltered outlaws. The town had around fifteen homes, a stable that served as the town smithy as well, a market, and the inn-and-hall, placed along a single road that grew from a trail in the woods leading East towards Sora. As a border town, it was enclosed, but the gate in the high wooden wall was only shut during wartime and it had no guard to speak of. Rather, any of its men and most of its women were capable of becoming a guard at a moment's notice if need be, so no permanent position was required.
The light breeze smelled of pine, willow, and alder; Kerri's hair rustled as she applied her dyes. An old pattern, three lines over her focusing eye and one under her lips – to see without illusion or error, and to be heard by the spirits of the wood. She used white to discolor her hair above her face, a trick to make her seem larger to animals and fearsome to people.
She packed her dyes and, impatient, gave a glance to the market for Ashe.